


How to Mend a Broken Heart

by levele3



Category: How to Train Your Dragon (Movies), Strange Magic (2015)
Genre: Dragons, F/M, Gen, Gift, Remix, Secret Santa 2016, Strange Magic Secret Santa 2016, Viking, butterfly bog, how to train your dragon, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-27
Updated: 2016-12-27
Packaged: 2018-09-12 12:41:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9072172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/levele3/pseuds/levele3
Summary: Bog and Marianne enjoy a quiet night together with their pet dragons, the past is remembered and the future is open to anything. *this story has already been posted to Tumblr*





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ohtd_luv4ever](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ohtd_luv4ever/gifts).



> A How to Train Your Dragon- Strange Magic cross over for @ohtd-love-forever as part of the Strange Magic Secret Santa gift exchange. The request called for fluff, angst, mutual pining, and a dramatic BAMF-rescue. It was a tall order but I think I filled it. I hope you enjoy it and Merry Christmas to all!

Bog stretched out his long form in the sweet grass, propping himself on a large rock and giving a slight bend to his right leg, his good leg. 

“It’s a perfect night, don’t you agree?” his companion inquired. 

Bog tilted his head left to look over at Marianne and he sighed inwardly, he had to agree with her. The setting sun was positioned directly behind her, setting her hair on fire and making her warm eyes positively glow. The sky above was awash with colour, pale blues and pinks melded into brilliant orange where the sunk kissed the ocean. The sight made his mouth go dry and he forced himself to swallow down the lump that was caught in his throat.

“Aye” Bog agreed, before turning his attention back to the scene in front of them, lest the woman he was with catch sight his rising blush. 

Bog could hardly believe he was here, with Marianne of all people. They hadn’t always got along as well as they did now. Their unique relationship of friendly-rivalry had been made complicated when their dragons had chosen one another to be mates. 

Bog’s Night Fury, Stealth, gave a forlorn whimper as she curled her tail even more tightly around her precious egg. Her mate, Imp, was quickly able to assuage her with a loving nudge, they rubbed their muzzles together. Despite its rough appearance the Monstrous Nightmare was actually kind and loyal, much like his trainer.  For the most part, the two dragons ignored their humans and simply reveled in the joy of being with one another.

Bog looked sideways at Marianne again, _was it his imagination or was she sitting closer than she had been before_?  Marianne had only been twelve when she, her sister, and their father had moved to Myrkviðr. Back then he had seen her as no more than a nuisance, just another young, up-and-coming dragon slaying wannabe. Bog had more important things to worry about, like catching the eye of _Ingrid_.  Bog shook his head to rid himself of the bad memories, that was all in the past now. Marianne wasn’t twelve anymore, she’d become her own woman and the best dragon rider of Myrkviðr, second only to himself.

The sky darkened above them as Marianne and Bog continued to enjoy their mutual silence. Soon the stars were popping out and a bright and full moon was cresting the horizon. It really would have been the perfect night for flying if Bog’s dragon hadn’t been incapacitated, for weeks now she hadn’t been able to leave her nest for anything. It was a sign that the egg would soon hatch, and it was anyone’s guess what type of offspring would begot the union of a Night Fury and Monstrous Nightmare. The egg itself was a smooth black that seemed to blend in with the darkness.

Bog felt Marianne shiver beside him, an action caused by the cool spring night air touched by the North Atlantic sea breeze. _When had she gotten so close_? They were nearly touching. Bog was preparing to move himself away a bit when a sharp pain went shooting up his bad leg. He grimaced and hissed though the pain. Ashamed that the old injury still bothered him. Bog tried so hard to put on that brave face, to not let anyone see his vulnerabilities, lest of all Marianne. 

There was a soft touch, just above his left knee, and Bog opened his eyes to see for himself. Marianne’s small pale hand rested on his leg.

“It still hurts, after all this time?” she asks with mild wonder.

She is all genuine curiosity, no malice agenda in sight.

“Aye” Bog says, deciding on telling the truth, trusting her with his pain. “The funny bit is, it’s the part o’ me that’s missing is wot hurts.”

Bog laughs to make light of the situation. Marianne does not. She continues to stare at him with mild concern.

“You mean, your foot?” she asks gesturing to the worked metal that has replaced his flesh and bone.

Bog only nods. Then Marianne does something that surprises him even more than her sitting close to him.

Marianne runs her hand down Bog’s leg, she feels the divot of where his leg ends and the replacement foot begins. The metal is cold to the touch, exposed to the night air as it is. It is not the same attachment Bog was presented with after that fateful day, no this one he forged himself. It is smooth and Marianne relishes the way it feels. She is unaware of the affect she is having on Bog.

For Bog what Marianne is doing is incredibly intimate. She’s not just touching him in a physical sense, but she is also touching a part of himself he thought no one would ever touch again. A part that had been removed and refashioned and it wasn’t just his metal foot. Losing limbs was a hazard of the job of being a Viking. That was lesson number one, something his father had ingrained in him from the start. Bog couldn’t help the way his chest was pounding at the sight before him. 

His father hadn’t stayed long enough to warn Bog about the hazards of sharing your heart with someone. That had been a hard and painful lesson he had learned on his own. Instantly Bog’s demeanour changed as the darkness from the past threatened to rise up and overwhelm him. 

Marianne noticed the shift in her companion’s mood, and quickly removed her hand from his person. _What had she been thinking_? Touching him like that, _gods_ , she was stupid. 

“I’m sorry” Marianne mumbled, leaning away from him a bit.

She felt a flush of shame stain her cheeks and tears prick at her eyes. Bog was older than her, a village hero, and the youngest person to ever become Chieftain at the age of twenty, a position he’d only held for just over a year. He could never want the affections of someone like her, no matter how long she’d harboured feelings for him. Ever since that fateful day.    

“Dorn’t be” he whispered, his voice rough, as he reached out and took her hand in his. 

She didn’t flinch at the contact, so Bog squeezed her hand a little and to his surprise she squeezed back. Bog felt the corner of his lips twitch in an attempt at a smile. 

Taking that as an invitation, Marianne moved closer once more, she sat herself right next to him, legs touching, and then she laid her head down on his chest.

It was Bog’s turn to shiver and it had nothing to do with the cooling temperature. He brought his head down to gently rest his chin on top of her head, and brought his other arm up to cradle her waist. It wasn’t long before they were asleep, and memories of the past filled their heads.

*~~*

Bog had spent most of his short life as the village misfit.  He had never fit in with the other Viking children, always trying to come up with new ways of trying to capture the beasts that invaded their island home. Instead of forming part of the fire brigade or doing some other important task, when the alarm bells were raised it was Bog’s job to head to the smithy and work on weapons with his uncle Brutus.

His mother tried to sooth him by telling him it was just as important as any other job but Bog knew better. It was her way of keeping him out of trouble, locking him up to keep him safe. Brutus was skilled at his craft and dedicated any of his time to helping Bog learn it. Brutus had suffered for the Viking mantra, having lost his left hand, right eye, and the better part of his right leg to several dragons.   

Things began to change for Bog one night not that long after Marianne and her family had moved in. His mother, the Chieftain of the village at the time, had graciously invited a grief stricken Dagda and his two young daughters into their home. One night not long after their arrival the village awoke to the warning bells of a dragon attack.

Bog had been busy in the smithy, repairing weapons and watching his peers work alongside their parents, of course there was the beautiful Ingrid, with long blonde hair pulled back in a braid, except for the piece of fringe that always seemed to cover part of her face, then there was Roland, who acted brave but was actually a coward, too afraid of messing up his perfect hair. He also put more effort with trying to impress Ingrid with flashy moves that wouldn’t actually do any damage than trying to learn real fighting techniques.

Bog watched as one of Roland’s perfect blonde curls got singed and the would-be hero let out a very girlish squeal. 

Last but not least were the twins, Stuff and Thang a duo not to be messed with. They at least acknowledged Bog’s presence, they were the kind of people Bog would rather have as friends then enemies. The twins often played pranks on each other and then other people when they became bored. Nobody wanted the twins bored; it ended badly for everyone involved. 

The Vikings seemed to be winning the battle until a flash of light and a foreboding screech filled the air. The roar called to Bog, this was his chance to prove himself to his mother and maybe catch the eye of Ingrid in the process. It was time for Bog to try his new invention.

The invention had worked better than Bog could ever have hoped. He was ninety percent sure he had hit and brought down a dragon. However his actions had also caused the other dragons to escape with their bounty, and more than half of the town was on fire.  

The following day Bog set out to prove himself right. While out walking through the woods Bog began to notice tress that had taken damage from something large. His heart began to race as the adrenaline pump through his veins; Bog began to run and only just stopped short of falling into a sudden pit. The sight within made his eyes go wide. Not only had Bog’s invention worked and successfully bring down a dragon, he had managed to trap the most elusive dragon of all, a Night Fury.

For Bog the moment of truth had come, if he could just kill the beast he could prove to his mother, and the rest of the village, that he was worthy of being a Viking and dragon slayer. Bog crept close to the incapacitated creature, raised his knife, and looked into a large pair of yellow cat-like eyes. The eyes seemed to reflect Bog’s own fear back at him and he found he couldn’t do it. He began to lower the knife then remembered the poor creature was still bound. Bog made quick work of cutting the cords around the dragon then ran clear in anticipation of watching the magnificent beast fly off.  

It didn’t though. Bog watched as it certainly tried but nothing ever came of its attempts. It took a few days for Bog to realised he’d injured the dragon more than he’d wanted to. Part of its tail was missing which put it off balance. Bog threw himself into his new project. Bog spent his days earning the trust of the dragon and his nights quietly working on a special attachment to help the dragon regain its ability to fly. 

In the meantime, Dagda had convinced Griselda that they should send a party of Viking worriers out after the dragons, try to find their home and reclaim the island for themselves by ridding it of the unwanted and dangerous pests. Griselda tried to warn him how fruitless the attempt would be, it was how she’d lost her husband. Griselda had had time to overcome her grief but Dagda’s was still fresh, have also lost his wife to a dragon attack that had left his village decimated and forced them all to relocate elsewhere. He was also struggling with not really being a chief anymore and kept looking for someone to blame all his hardships on. Again and again it came back to the dragons; they had been the cause of all his problems. Dagda had become blind to everything except for revenge, even ignoring his daughters, who only wanted their father back.  

***

Marianne, who was curious by nature, had spent the ensuing days, exploring her new island home. Wherever she went Dawn wasn’t far behind, and wherever Dawn went Sunny was sure to follow. Sunny was, a little older than Dawn, but younger than Marianne. He wasn’t yet allowed to hang out with the older gang so was quick to attach himself to the new kids in town. Marianne didn’t mind, it meant she had more time for exploring and an extra pair of eyes to look out for Dawn. 

At first Marianne had been awe struck by the gang of junior Vikings, she hoped to grow up to be badass like Ingrid and longed for someone to show off for her the way Roland did for Ingrid. One day while the three new friends were out playing in the woods they happened to see Bog on his way to visiting Stealth, as he had so named the dragon. They weren’t the only ones following him in the woods that day though.

Ingrid had grown suspicious of Bog’s sudden new prowess in the dragon fighting arena. It had been Dagda’s final piece of advice before setting off that the children’s training regime should be improved. While their parents went off to hunt for the dragon’s lair it had fallen to Brutus to better prepare the next generation of Vikings. Bog of course had been using his new found knowledge of dragons from his time spent with Stealth to deter and subdue the dragons he went up against in the arena. Using Sweet Grass, and rubs behind the ear to incapacitate and in extreme cases eels to scare the dragons away completely. 

The three watched in amazement as Bog showed Ingrid his secret. Something inside Marianne broke a little as she realised Bog trusted Ingrid more than her. A feeling Marianne didn’t yet have a name for overwhelmed her when Bog and Ingrid took off together on the dragon. 

***

Marianne’s father and Bog’s mother returned from their adventure with lower spirits than they had left with. They hadn’t even made it close to the dragon’s home, ships wrecks and an unnatural dense fog had hindered their path. Griselda had been pleased to hear of Bog’s sudden improvements and longed to hear about his new found skill with dragons. Dagda had been eager also to see for himself how the young fighter’s training was coming along and announced that a tournament should be held.  

Bog easily won with his tricks but it did make things difficult when the time came and he was supposed to kill a Monstrous Nightmare. Bog knew he couldn’t do it. Bog tossed and turned, unable to sleep worrying about what the dawn would bring. He went outside to get some fresh air and found he was not alone. Marianne sat on the steps of the longhouse looking up at the night sky. Bog sat down beside her.

“Couldn’t sleep?” he asked, he had not spent much time with the young girl, having got caught up with first the dragon, and then Ingrid.

“I know your secret” she said with calm wisdom, turning to look at him.

“I dorn’t know what yer on aboot” he tried to deny he had anything to hide.

“You’re friends with a dragon” Marianne stated, “I’ve seen you, in the woods” she confessed, only mildly ashamed of admitting her spying. 

“And yoo didnae tell yer da?” he asked, his surprise evident.  

“No, I’m not a snitch” Marianne cried defensively. 

Bog felt a little guilty for insinuating she was a child who ran to her father with every little thing. A strained silence fell between them.

“So, what are you going to do about the, you know” Marianne asked, hinting around the subject that both left them sleepless.

“I’ve no idea” Bog shook his head, totally at a loss.

“Why don’t you show them the truth” Marianne suggested after another lull in conversation.

“What?” Bog asked bewildered.

“Show them that dragon’s aren’t bad, show them that they can be trained, that we can _ride_ them!”  Marianne’s eyes lit up with joy and excitement.

She wanted to fly on the back of a dragon, the way he did. Bog’s heart gave a little leap of joy at that. Ingrid didn’t seem so keen on the idea but Marianne’s tone had an infectious quality about it and had Bog nodding along in agreement. Yeah, he could do this, show his mother, and Dagda that dragons weren’t all bad, it was the way humans treated them that made them react the way they did.

“I don’t want to be a dragon slayer anymore,” Marianne confided in him, “I want to be a dragon flyer.” 

***

 The demonstration had been going well enough until a loud noise had startled the Monstrous Nightmare, putting Bog in a dangerous position. Dagda had been swift to take action, but someone else had also come to Bog’s rescue, Stealth. In the ensuing chaos Bog let slip about Stealth taking him and Ingrid into the heart of the dragon’s lair, something not even Marianne had known. 

Dagda had been furious but then a strange gleam had entered his eyes and announced that he’d use the now restrained beast to lead them into the fray.

“No!” the cry was Marianne’s, and she came running through the crowd.

“Father, you can’t” she pleaded, knowing how it would break Bog’s heart if his dragon was taken from him.

“You knew about this” her father roared, shocked and outraged. “You knew, and you didn’t tell me!” his faced turned an angry shade of red as his anger boiled over. 

Marianne did not lower her gaze but fiercely stood her ground, even as tears filled her eyes.  

“Please, sir” Bog tried to intercede, but Dagda was beyond the point of reason. 

“You stay out of this boy” Dagda growled, turning his wrath on Bog, “it’s your fault we’re in this mess.”  

Roland, who had been trying to get on the old chiefs good side, nodded in agreement. Even as an ex-chief a marriage to one of his daughter would be advantageous for someone looking to move up the ranks and Roland had his eye on Marianne.

“Lets go kill the dragons!” Dagda yelled and a handful of the adults cheered in agreement.

There was a sudden division among the village. Many had feared Dagda would do something like this, try to usurp and over throw Griselda’s reign of peace. Others had waited for this day with eagerness, they didn’t think it was right to have a woman chief and knew Bog would be unfit for the taxing position.  

Marianne fled from the scene tears streaming down her eyes.

Bog watched the scene unfold with a growing darkness in his chest. Ingrid stood fast next to Bog offering little comfort as they watched half the village, including Roland and Dagda sail out into the unknown. Bog’s mother as well as Brutus, Plum the village elder, and a few others loyal to their chief stayed behind. 

“I’m sorry son” Griselda said, patting her boy on his shoulder in an attempt as consolation. 

“Has anyone seen Dawn?” Marianne asked, making her way back through the crowd, still whipping at her tear stained cheeks.

Everyone responded in the negative until she came upon Sunny, who also appeared to be looking frantically for Dawn.

“We were playing hiding and seek” Sunny confessed, “but it’s been sometime since I’ve seen her.” It had been a good idea at the time, a welcomed distraction to the business up at the arena.

A search party quickly spread out but Dawn was nowhere to be found. 

“She must have been on the longboat!” Marianne cried.

“Bog, we have to rescue her” Marianne pleaded with him, griping onto the front of his shirt.

Bog had already been forming his own plan to go and save Stealth but with the added danger to dawn he knew the time to act was now.

***

On the ship Roland was making his presence known to Dagda being vocal about his ideas on dragons, making sure his view lined up with the older man’s. Dagda listen but his heart was only half in it. Guilt was beginning to set in over the way he had treated his daughter. He kept one eye on the dragon, looking for any change in it behaviour, but the trapped animal was compliant and fulfilled its role of navigator without much protest.  The shipwrecks that had caused Dagda much grief before where no longer an obstacle. They sailed on through the fog.

Back on Myrkviðr Bog was teaching Ingrid, Stuff, Thang, Marianne, Plum, Sunny, and his mother how to forge a quick relationship with a dragon. He paired Ingrid with a blue Deadly Nadder, the twins with a Hideous Zippleback, and Sunny with a Gronckle. Marianne is the only one who can even get close to the Monstrous Nightmare. 

Griselda can see her son is in his element, giving gentle orders and helping hints as he guides the group through their meetings. She sees how wrong she was about him. He’ll make a fine leader one day.  

“Alright everybody, let’s suit up and fly out. You ride with me Tough Girl” Bog says walking by and offering Marianne his hand.

Together they ride the gigantic dragon, Griselda shares with Ingrid and Plum with Sunny. The cavalry swoops in just in time to provide cover for the Vikings who were in danger of being overcome by the Red Death. The largest and most deadly dragon any of the Vikings had ever seen. Griselda and Plum were dropped to the ground and quick to join the fray while the twins and Sunny got to work trying to distract the Red Death from the angry horde at its feet.

Bog and Marianne landed their mount and made a mad dash for the long ship where Stealth was still bound and Marianne hoped that Dawn was safe and in hiding.

“Dawn! Dawn!” Marianne called out as they approached the ship.

“I’m over here!” Dawn shouted back from the deck, waving her arms frantically.

Bog and Marianne reached the ship and noticed Dawn had been trying to free the dragon. 

“Help me” she pleaded.

Just as they moved to board the ship it was struck by a flying piece of debris. Marianne watched in horror as the boat was demolished, Dawn and the dragon being sent beneath the waves.

“DAWN!” the cry wretched Bog’s heart apart. 

He had become attached the little girl in a big brother sort of way, her innocent curiosity had given him much amusement in the past month. Without thinking Bog ran for the water’s edge and didn’t hesitate in plunging right in. Within moments he resurfaced, a wet and limp Dawn cradled in his arms.

Marianne met him at the shore where she’d waited eagerly.

“I have to go back under” he said, whipping the wet fringe from his eyes, “I have to save Stealth too.”

With that he was gone back under and Marianne tended to Dawn, who was thankfully coughing up water. Marianne knew from that moment on her heart belonged to Bog. He had saved her sister, without concern for himself. She was deeply touched. He was so brave, and handsome too.

Her cry had of course also alerted her father to her presence on the dragon infested island. The anguished yell enough to pull him from his bloodlust and revenge. His litter girl was hurt or in trouble, his daughters needed him to be a father, not a warrior. 

“Marianne, Marianne, what are you doing here?” her father asked, confused, in between his deep inhales for breathes, Dagda was not as young as he used to be. 

“Dawn was missing, I had to find her” Marianne said holding her sister close, but watching the surface of the water. Bog was still under there.

Her father noticed how distracted she was.

“What is it my dear?” Dagda asked with all the gentle kindness a father could muster.

“Bog, he’s-” Marianne hadn’t even finished when her father took off for the water. Like Bog he didn’t hesitate, just dove in. 

Dagda knew he had to make amends for letting his anger cloud his judgment. Bog had only partially cut through some of Stealth’s ropes before passing out himself. Dagda looked the beast in the eye and the two came to an understanding. Dagda brought Bog to the surface then plunged back in, returning a moment later with the Night Fury, completely cut free from its bindings. 

Bog’s lungs were on fire as he choked and coughed up sea water. The first thing he saw was Stealth’s face, her worried eyes and the relief in his own reflected back at him when they both realised the other was alright.

Bog and Dagda made amends by shaking hands but the apologises and thank-you’s were cut short by a sudden cry of pain.

“Mother!” Bog called out, then wasted no-time in taking flight.

He knew it was a risk but he had to get the Red Death away from the Vikings, it was their only chance. 

Marianne watched with a growing sinking feeling in her gut that things would not end well for her new hero. 

The final assault on the Red Death lead by the joint forces of Griselda and Dagda proved fatal but it was not yet time to celebrate. Bog wasn’t clear of the beast in time and found himself unseated from Stealth. Time slowed down around him and Bog felt like he was floating, even though he was falling. It was a terrifying feeling. He tried to reach out to Stealth but there was too much distance between them now. She couldn’t fly without him controlling her. Even as gravity pulled him down Bog found his concern for the dragon far outweighed the concern for his own safety. Bog remembered falling, and then nothing.

Marianne pushed her way through the crowd, pulling a now conscious Dawn behind her. 

“My boy” Griselda wept, kneeling in the middle of the wide circle.

Dagda dropped his hands to his daughters’ shoulders and held them back, the scene before them a grisly one.

Stealth lay unmoving on the ground, her wings wrapped protectively around her body; Bog was nowhere to be seen. Dagda moved forward in an attempt to console Griselda, they may have had their differences before but he could see clearly now. No longer blinded by his need for revenge on dragons Dagda felt light and free and tears spring to his eyes at the loss of the young man who had saved his daughter’s life.  

When it seemed all hope had indeed been lost Stealth shifted and revealed what she was really protecting. Bog lay there in her wings, unmoving but breathing noticeably. Griselda’s tears of grief transformed into tears of gratitude and Dagda gave a sigh of relief.  Marianne wept openly for the first time since her mother’s death and hugged Dawn close.  

*~~*

“Bog, Bog wake up” Marianne whispered, as she gently patted his chest.

“Wa?” he asked groggily.

A tiny noise had awoken Marianne from sleep.

“It’s the egg, its hatching!” she said in an excited whisper.

Bog was pleased to find, in the cold grey light of dawn that Marianne was still pressed close to his chest. At her news his blue eyes went wide and he couldn’t help but return her smile with his own.

“We’re gonna be grandparents!” she declared, then stretching up, looped her arms around his neck and kissed him square on the mouth. 

Marianne pulled back with mild shock but was only too pleased when Bog leaned forward and cupped her cheek in his hand and brought their mouths back together for a much longer and more pleasant kiss. Marianne had kissed boys before, but not like this. Something in Bog’s touch set her insides on fire, his lips were smooth but his hands were rough, and the contrast was alluring. She was surprised when she released a soft moan.

The moan brought Bog back to the present and was quick to pull away not wishing to force himself on Marianne. For a moment they gazed into one another’s eyes both panting heavily until they both became embarrassed and looked away at the same time. They watched in silence and marveled at the miracle that was happening before them, both sure than no other human had witnessed what they were watching right now. 

The baby Night Fury picked and wormed its way out of its shell as both its parents looked on adoringly. Born into a world where Vikings and dragons lived in peace, and where true love could mend a broken heart. 


End file.
